(Were it any other moment, any other day, Eddie may have bemoaned the mess. Though he wouldn't have gone above and beyond to bemoan it. After all, it wasn't food. If it was, Richie would never hear the end of it between maggots and mice. But there's no energy for even playfully bitching at Richie. Not today.
Today, all of his energy is going to be spent on making sure that Richie was okay. And, in some selfish way, allowing himself to be okay too. Not that he'd ever admit to the latter.
Richie cuts to the chase and Eddie's grateful. He's quiet at first, tipping his head down to hide it into his arm, his face burning. Shame is a familiar emotion for Eddie, but he had never felt shame quite like this. Sometimes when he really thought hard about it, he could taste his mouth full of ashes. Like his soul had already started to burn up in Hell.
He doesn't even pick his head up when he hears the whispering clatter of comic books hitting the floor. Being around Richie had always meant noise and chaos. It's an adjusted state of being for Eddie at this point, and he merely just sighs. Eventually Eddie pulls his head up, eyes a little pink.)
Not so sure if it matters if they came back. We still wanted them gone forever. And...and the pain was real. (Eddie's hand creeps over his shoulder towards his stitches, but he doesn't quite wind up there. His hand drops after a second, and his head goes back into his arm. When he speaks next, it's muffled, but coherent.)
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Today, all of his energy is going to be spent on making sure that Richie was okay. And, in some selfish way, allowing himself to be okay too. Not that he'd ever admit to the latter.
Richie cuts to the chase and Eddie's grateful. He's quiet at first, tipping his head down to hide it into his arm, his face burning. Shame is a familiar emotion for Eddie, but he had never felt shame quite like this. Sometimes when he really thought hard about it, he could taste his mouth full of ashes. Like his soul had already started to burn up in Hell.
He doesn't even pick his head up when he hears the whispering clatter of comic books hitting the floor. Being around Richie had always meant noise and chaos. It's an adjusted state of being for Eddie at this point, and he merely just sighs. Eventually Eddie pulls his head up, eyes a little pink.)
Not so sure if it matters if they came back. We still wanted them gone forever. And...and the pain was real. (Eddie's hand creeps over his shoulder towards his stitches, but he doesn't quite wind up there. His hand drops after a second, and his head goes back into his arm. When he speaks next, it's muffled, but coherent.)
I'm sorry.